The Breakaway Trilogy-M Rated Chapters
by Mylee
Summary: I am moving the M rated chapters from The Breakaway Trilogy over here. These are chapters that were previously only accessible through my website. I will be closing down my website soon and do not want to lose the chapters. Prom Night from Breakaway and two chapters from The Broken Road will be posted here.
1. Prom Night

**Author's Note:**

I am going to be closing down my website soon. Since I didn't want to lose any parts of my stories, I am moving the M rated chapters from _The Breakaway Trilogy_ over here. _Prom Night_ was posted after _Breakaway_ ended because I really needed a happy Jim/Trixie chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

 **Prom Night**

 _Last May_

The bright light of the nearly full moon illuminated the yard better than the countless lights turned on for the celebration occurring inside his house. The driveway was packed with vehicles. More were lining Glen Road. He didn't have a clue how many of Honey's classmates had accepted her invitation to an after-prom party at their house, with their parents and Miss Trask acting as guardians, nor did he care. There was only one person inside who he wanted to spend the night with. The food and non-alcoholic drinks were free, as was the entertainment. Glancing in the direction of the living room, he could hear the beat of the stereo system cranking out song after song. Voices came through the opened windows, laughing, happy and celebrating the wonderful night. A few couples could be seen out on the front porch, chatting and eating. A dark green-and-white checked blanket tucked under his arms, he walked around the house, well out of sight of the unidentified high-schoolers, and headed towards the stables. Needing a break from the mass of teenagers within, Jim leaned against the fence, his eyes on the back door, and crossed one leg over the other. He was waiting for his date to come out and was delighted that she had been enthusiastic about ditching the after prom party for a while in order to go for a moonlit walk with him.

Footsteps came his way but not from the direction of the house. Glancing over his shoulder, he sent a lazy wave towards his friend. "Hey, Dan!" he called out jovially. "I just escaped the nuthouse that is my home right now. What are you doing? Are you crazy enough to brave it?"

Dan shuddered in mock glee, thinking about the countless inhabitants inside. Both him and his uncle had laughingly predicted that the Wheelers and Miss Trask would end up going insane by the end of the night. "Not on your life, Frayne," he chuckled and shook his head. He hooked a thumb back towards the stables. "Since none of the lovely ladies at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High asked me to go to the prom with them, I spent the evening with Uncle Bill. We played cards and finished up a movie on television. He just found his earplugs and is planning on sleeping with them in tonight."

Both young men burst into rounds of deep chortles of mirth. "I don't think my parents considered exactly what they were getting into when they offered to host the party as a safe way for Honey and her classmates to celebrate the aftermath of the prom," Jim remarked with an arched eyebrow, his laughter fading away. "To tell you the truth, I'm rather glad they didn't offer to host a party for me after my prom." He had walked his date to her home down in the hollow, under the light of the full moon, and had given her a sweetly chaste kiss on the cheek. It had almost been the perfect ending for him. He only wished he had found the courage to give her a real kiss that night instead of waiting until the summer she was sixteen. They would have been able to start dating that much sooner. As it was, their two year anniversary was looming ahead, soon after her high school graduation. It promised to be unforgettable, as well as a major turning point in their relationship. He had big plans for the night.

"Well, you won't have to worry about anyone complaining to the cops about the noise. You've got the Lynches and the Beldens as the only neighbors who may hear the noise. If Mr. Lytell lived any closer…" He left the thought unsaid but his grin said it all. "Well, let's just say that Sleepyside's finest would have already been here by now in order to restore the peace."

Jim draped a hand over the fence. His fingers dangled in the night air. "You're right about that. Mr. Lytell was pretty lucky that Trixie was there the other day to help him when he fell. Who knows how long he would have lain on the floor in the store if she hadn't gone inside to buy some strawberry pop?"

"Mart thinks that he may offer her a summer job as a way to say thank you." Dan's lips twitched at the thought. Trixie working for Mr. Lytell? "If that happens, I'm going to be a daily customer at that store. It'll be very interesting to see how the two work together and for how long. I'd be willing to take bets on the length of time she's employed there."

Jim's laughter burst out of him. The image of Trixie Belden, serving customers behind the counter of Mr. Lytell's little country store with the cantankerous man observing her closely with his pinched face and disapproving eyes, was highly amusing and extremely improbable. "I can't imagine that happening," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Mr. Lytell can't stand my Trix."

In the spirit of the evening, Dan let the golden opportunity to tease Jim for his possessive mention of Trixie to slide by. He lifted a foot onto the bottom rung of the fence and motioned towards the house. "What are you doing out here, Jim? Shouldn't you be inside, with the rest of the celebrants?"

"I'm waiting for Trixie," Jim answered as he stared towards the back door, willing her to come out. He had been waiting outside for nearly twenty minutes. He missed her. "We're going for a walk. It's a little…loud in there for us." And crowded. Much, much too crowded.

Prom night. Walk. At midnight. Dan's amused face immediately sobered. He moved closer to Jim, studied his friend by the light of the moon, but couldn't tell if Jim had the same thoughts that he had. Turning serious, he wondered if he should share his thoughts. He tapped a finger against the wooden fence and started a fishing expedition. "Going for a walk, huh? Where are you heading?"

Jim shrugged a shoulder. He hadn't really given it a thought. He reached up and undid the tie to his tux, sliding the thin black strip into his pocket for safe-keeping, and dropped the fleece blanket he was holding to the ground. Stooping down, he picked it back up and placed it over the fence, unaware of the knowing look that crossed Dan's face. "It's not that either of us are exactly claustrophobic or anything but the house is filled to capacity right now. And, as I said, it's loud." He was surprised that the windows didn't rattle with the force of the bass or that his parents hadn't pulled the plug on the system yet. "I suggested a walk outside since it's such a nice night. The moon's almost a full one so we'll have plenty of light. I'm not sure where exactly we're going." He moved his shoulder. "Somewhere."

"Hmm." Dan hadn't missed the blanket. "Where is Trixie now?"

"She wanted to change shoes." Jim thought about the little heels she had worn, just the right height for her to maneuver around in. She had danced like a dream the entire night in them, hadn't stumbled even once. But they weren't the best shoes for a midnight walk, especially when the only light they had to guide them was from the moon riding high above them. "She should be out soon enough."

"I think it was great of your parents to offer a fun, safe place for the high-schoolers to come to," Dan said into the silence, stressing the word 'safe'. His dark eyes glinted while he fumbled around for something in his back pocket. He slid the package out, pocketed it in the palm of his hand, and thought that it was providence that he managed to have one on him. "There are sometimes some unforeseen consequences when teenagers aren't safe on prom night," he continued thoughtfully.

He was oblivious to the true meaning behind Dan's words. "You're right about that." Jim thought about the consequences that had hit Sleepyside over the years and sighed. "I still remember the car accident from my senior year that injured a car-load of students. No one died but one of them was paralyzed from the waist down. It's such a shame." His voice went soft at the tragedy. "There have also been a few kids over the years who were arrested from underage drinking. Sergeant Molinson has often complained about prom night and how hard it is to monitor the students."

Dan sucked in a deep breath. Now or never. It needed to be said. What he was holding needed to be handed over, just in case. He smoothed all expression off of his face. "There have also been a few unplanned pregnancies, too," he remarked pointedly, bringing his sober gaze to meet Jim's shocked one. He drove his point home by sliding the something he held into Jim's hand. Feeling like the elder, he stated plainly, "I don't know what your plans are, Jim. To put it frankly, I don't want to know about them. Ever. She's like my sister and, well, we'll leave it at that. But, whatever you two do tonight or at some point in the future, make certain you're safe." Without waiting for Jim to stop sputtering or regain his normal coloring, Dan turned and walked to his truck, his steps sure and sound, and started whistling to the beat of the newest song serenading them from the house.

Jim gaped after Dan. The tempting idea was never far from his mind, was something he thought about more than he would ever have admitted to anyone. There weren't many people he could talk about it with. If he had ever brought it up to Brian, he imagined that the studious young man wouldn't have any trouble inflicting a serious injury on him. Mart…well, he wasn't even a consideration. It hadn't been part of his agenda for the evening…not until Dan had offered him what was now in his hand. The little foil packet stared back at him. He wrapped his hand around it, thought about what it contained inside, and missed the sound of the back door opening and closing. He glanced up in time to see a vision in sapphire blue racing across the yard. With his heart beating fast, he slipped the packet into his pocket and tried to forget about its existence.

"Gleeps, Jim!" Trixie giggled, waving to Dan when he expertly backed up between the numerous vehicles crammed onto the driveway and drove down the driveway with a cheerful honk of his horn. "You wouldn't believe how hard it was to get upstairs just to get my sneakers. It seemed like every person I passed had to talk to me and tell me how much they enjoyed the prom." She held out a foot attired in her light blue-and-gray Adidas sneakers and white anklet socks, which looked incongruous with the pretty blue dress that fell in gentle waves around her body, stopping just above her knees. "But I'm finally ready. Let's go."

 _I'm finally ready_. The words took on a new meaning to him. Damning Dan for putting the tantalizing idea into his mind, even if was one that were the source of all of his fantasies for much too long, he reached out for her hand and pulled her along, loving the feeling of her fingers wrapped trustingly around his. "Let's head up to Ten Acres," he murmured, more huskily than he intended, and pressed a kiss to a tender spot on her neck.

"Sounds perfect." Trixie closed her eyes and sighed when his lips trailed a path up to hers. Kissing him never failed to surprise her. Even after two years of officially dating and countless years before that of fond glances and innocent hand-holding, she still had trouble believing that she was his special girl, for good and for always. After reluctantly breaking the newest kiss, she whispered curiously, slanting an almost guilty look back at the house over her shoulder, "Do you think anyone will miss us?"

Jim halted and stared down at her in disbelief, laughter dancing in his eyes. "Ah, Trixie? Right now almost the entire senior class, a good part of the junior class, and their dates are inside my house. Call me crazy but unless my parents or Miss Trask are taking role call every half hour, I don't even think they will know we left the premises. They're going to be too busy presiding over the festivities."

"You're right," Trixie answered with a relieved grin. She blew out a breath, tucked back a curl that immediately sprang back into its normal place, and strolled along with him, enjoying the velvety darkness of the night around them. The moon was bright enough to light their way, the same way it had done so long ago on their first moonlit ride together. She looked up at him, wondered if he remembered the ride, but didn't ask. Instead, she held on tighter to his hand, breathless as always by the handsome man by her side. They moved slower than normal. The path to Ten Acres wasn't as well-worn or as memorized as the one that connected their houses. She neatly side-stepped an exposed tree root and sighed, grateful she hadn't tripped over it. "Besides, even if they do realize that we needed a break from the madhouse, I mean, the Manor House, they trust us. No one will worry." She had no desire to go back to the house anytime soon.

She was right. No one would worry, not if they were together. And they did trust them…to make the right decisions. Jim caught her when she stumbled over a hidden rock in the path. For one long, extended moment their bodies were matched up perfectly. He stared down into her blue eyes, watched the way they went big with shock and something that he correctly read as innocent desire, and felt a powerful reaction start within him. Unable to stop himself, he leaned down and took her lips.

The urgency, the power, and the potency stunned her. He had kissed her like this before but never so soon and certainly not outside, in a place where they were practically guaranteed all of the privacy that a couple in deep and abiding love could ever want or desire. Trixie gripped his shirt, pulled him closer to her, and, lost in the moment, responded in kind. She didn't have a choice. Her body took over, telling her what to do, while her mind shut down, swept along on a rising tide of unfulfilled desire.

Jim felt the unequivocal response, marveled at the woman in his arms, and held on to her even tighter. His fingers traveled up and down her back, learning the silky feel of her dress and the softness of the exposed skin along the top of her back. Getting more adventurous, one hand tangled in her curls while the other went low, low, and lower still, until his fingers splayed across one round globe of her bottom. Then, he pressed forward, felt an extremely private area of his collide with the matching one of hers. Gasping, he tore his mouth from hers, and, breathing deeply, found respite in the elegant curve of her neck.

"Gleeps!" she exclaimed and felt like an idiot the second the word fell from her tingling lips. Her blush deepened while she mentally castigated herself for her response, caught off guard by the sudden strength of the passion that had erupted between them, and willed her heart rate to slow down.

Jim didn't find a thing wrong with her response. In his mind, it was the perfect one, as perfect as she was. It was pure, unequivocally Trixie. He smiled against the sensitive skin of her neck, gave her one small kiss on her collarbone, before he pulled back to look down into her face, his hands still where he had left them. "You said it," he replied and hugged her to him. She immediately relaxed against him and released a low, humming sound that didn't calm him down in the least.

Yeah. He was going to have to kill Dan. Tomorrow. The idea had grown and multiplied. With Trixie's response vivid in his mind, her head resting near his heart, and the light of the moon offering them a picture perfect setting, he wouldn't be able to resist…not if she was willing. He wasn't that honorable. Leaning forward, his breath warm in her ear, he said softly, "I love you, Trix."

Shivers of the good kind danced up and down her spine. She smiled against his shirt. Blue eyes peeped up at him, full of whimsy, love and an unconscious promise. Her arms wrapped around his waist, as tightly as she could hold onto him. Completely ignorant of the desire he was trying very hard not to unleash, she repeated the words back to him without a second thought. They were the absolute truth. "I love you, Jim. I always have. I always will."

"I like that pledge," he murmured huskily and glanced down the path. They were close to Ten Acres. Hoping against hope that they would be able to pick things up where they had left off, he threaded his fingers through hers and led the way. In less than five minutes, they reached the end of the overgrown path. Ten Acres, or, more accurately, the large clearing where it once stood, spread out before them.

Trixie let go of his hand and rushed ahead into the clearing, heading towards the spot that once supported the house. Clusters of wildflowers and green grass dotted the area now. Shafts of moonlight fell through the fresh green leaves from the branches overhead, making long, lazy fingers across the ground. "Look, Jim. Right about here. The mansion would have stood right here. This is the spot where we first met," she declared, pointing in the general direction where the mansion had once stood. She turned around once, the blue of her skirt billowing out around her bare legs, and threw a happy grin his way, having no clue about the effect she was having on him.

He couldn't look anywhere else but at her. Unable to resist the vision she made, he walked over to her. The blanket fell from his grip to land in a crumpled heap on the ground. Her smile slid off her face when she got a good look at him while her breath lodged almost painfully in her throat. Their earlier kiss ran through her mind. Her heart pounded out an erratic beat when he stood in front of her, looking at her with an almost reverent expression on his face. He reached out, brushed back an errant curl, and cupped her cheek tenderly in his hand. This time when his lips met hers, it was full of a gentle passion that quickly turned into something much hotter and more intense. It wasn't long before she was lost again, with only his mouth, his hands and his tongue guiding her through the almost overwhelming haze of desire, only coming back to herself when he pulled back.

"It's a perfect night. A wonderful night," she said after she regained her ability to speak, her words cutting through the sounds of their combined breathing. "It's absolutely beautiful here."

"Beautiful." He didn't mean the sky, couldn't take his eyes off of her or the effervescent glow that seemed to come from within, touching all of those people lucky enough to come into contact with her. Reaching out, he reveled in the soft feel of her curls, ran a hand over them. He encircled her waist and he pressed her close to him, ever so slowly, savoring the feel as their bodies aligned. "You're so beautiful, Trixie."

Her response was a short, choked laugh. She would never see herself as beautiful, always as anything but. The confidence in her looks simply didn't exist. She wasn't going to perseverate on it. "Jim," she put in warningly, caught somewhere between the urge to giggle or grimace at his foolishness. "I'm not."

"Yes. You are, Trixie. I'll show you how beautiful I find you." He started with his eyes first, gently caressing her as he started with her face and skimmed down the rest of her lithe body with gentle curves and intoxicating lines. If he stared a little longer at two tempting points, only the slight flush on his face gave him away. She didn't notice because he began a leisurely exploration with his hands next, starting with the smoothness of her shoulders. He felt up and down her bare arms, light, loose touches, and then moved on to her breasts, touching them through the double material of her dress and her bra. The sensations he was causing made her eyes fly open and her mouth gasp. He began to kiss every inch of exposed skin he could get, starting at the sensitive skin at her wrist and finishing with her lips. She was used to his touch and his kiss, had felt them many times before, but tonight was different. There was no time limit, no fear of interruption, no one to stop them. There was nothing but each other and the warmth of the air around them. The excitement and the danger combined to make it intoxicating.

She may not have realized until that moment when he was showing her how much he loved her, how beautiful and desirable he found her, with his eyes, hands, and eventually his lips, what could happen that night but, as she looked trustingly up into the intense eyes that were practically impaling her with the force of his desire for her, an answer formed in her mind. Impulsive, maybe. Definitive, without a doubt. With no thoughts of regret, she threw caution to the wind. All that mattered was him. Her arms twined their way around his neck. She pulled his head down, breathed heavily by his ear. "Yes," she whispered to the question he didn't know if he could ask.

Startled, he drew back, uncertain how she already knew the thoughts that were going through his mind. He shouldn't have been surprised. She was always a mile ahead of the rest of them. It should figure that she would know his thoughts before he shared them with her. One hand tightened on her waist, drawing her to him while his eyes deepened to the darkest green they had ever been. "Yes? Trixie…I…oh, hell," he stammered out, his face going as red as his hair, and his heart beating so frantically it should have pounded right through his body.

Her eyebrows went high. He wasn't usually so inarticulate. It showed her that he was nervous, maybe as nervous as she was. For some inexplicable reason, that knowledge infused a calmness to her that was more than important. It was necessary. Certain in the belief that he wanted her as much as she wanted him, she moved in even closer, arms dropping around his shoulders. Their bodies made a gorgeous silhouette against the backdrop of the velvety sky, almost as if the night had been specially ordered for them alone. "Yes," she repeated one more time. She toed out of her sneakers, left them on the ground, while he gawked at her. Her socks soon followed. "And yes," she said a third time when he hadn't said a word, only stared at her as if she was going to evaporate or, worse, change her mind.

"Thank God," burst out of him before he could stop it. Not needing more clearance for the moment, his kiss this time was more powerful than any other before it, showing both an eagerness and an intensity that thrilled her and promised more. His hands, his wonderful, competent hands, ran over her body, learning every inch of her through the silky material of the dress. When she didn't protest the thorough way he was touching her, carefully keeping eye contact the entire time in case she should, he reached around and started to pull down the zipper. The sound it made reverberated through the clearing like a cannon.

The night air caressed the exposed skin. She didn't shiver. She watched with fascination as he pushed down the thin straps that had held it up and felt a feminine purr of satisfaction roll through her at the way his eyes zeroed in on her satin covered breasts. Reverently, almost as if he couldn't resist their allure, he reached out, his fingers roaming over the satin and cupping them. His thumbs ran over her nipples, teasing them until they began erect. He couldn't wait to see them. Fingers fumbled with the clasp at the back before he got the hang of it and slipped it off. The scrap of material fell to the ground, forgotten. He swallowed hard at the sight before him. Perfect proportioned breasts, topped lightly with a becoming rose color. It couldn't have been a more intoxicating sight and made his breath catch. "Trixie?" he said, her name a strange mix of a question and a salvation, seeking permission before he did what he so very clearly wanted to do.

She couldn't believe the way he was looking at her, as if she was the most precious and loved creature to ever tread upon the surface of the earth. She nodded and gasped sharply when first his fingers, then his mouth, found each breast, paying homage to them in a way she hadn't anticipated. Sensations she had never even dreamed existed poured through her like rainwater. They only intensified, centering around the most private area of her. Unconsciously, unaware of what she was asking for, she arched a hip, came into contact with something strong and hard, and opened her eyes in wide-eyed, comprehending shock.

Lost in his own exploration, taking his time getting to know first one, then the other, of the two places he had only ever touched before, and then through the confining material of her clothes, Jim reluctantly left, his mouth traveling back up to her neck, leaving a line of soft, wet kisses the entire way, while he gave one last tug that sent the dress over her hips to the ground to land in a pool of blue at her feet. He had to look, to see the goddess in his arms, and pulled back, his eyes skimming over her hungrily, missing absolutely nothing. All she was left was her matching blue panties.

He looked so long and so hard that Trixie began to feel scared and embarrassed. When he lifted his face back to hers, the embarrassment fled, to be replaced with something akin to awe. No one had ever looked at her like that before. So completely, so fully, so deeply in love. It couldn't be misinterpreted or mistaken. It had to be the most honest look she had ever received before. Her chest rose and fell. Her hand fisted in the soft white material of his shirt. Becoming bolder, wanted to even the score a bit and get him as unclothed as she was, she tugged his shirt out of his pants. Her hands met the hard muscles of his lower back underneath. They bunched reflexively under her careful touch. Understanding her desire, he started undoing his shirt hastily, paying no mind to the studs that fell to the blanket and the ground, lost from sight and without much hope of recovery. He pulled back long enough to shed his shirt and straighten out the blanket on the ground. Then he was back. Unbelievably, it felt even better. Skin to skin, with only his pants and that one thin, alluring scrap of clothing left of hers between them.

"Trixie, you need to know something. Now," he whispered throatily into her air, nuzzling his head against the soft curls while his hands couldn't stop touching her breasts. "If we want to stop, now's the time. I don't…I can't…God, I think I'd die if we have to stop later." It was the truth. It was hard to admit. He was holding onto the edge of his control, a strange mixture of exhilaration and terror at the cliff they found themselves poised on, right before they took the ultimate plunge.

"Me, too," she responded, her voice thick and heavy with unspent passion, sounding completely foreign and unlike her own. To show him she was more than willing, she inched closer, aligning their bodies perfectly. Even though he was taller than her, especially now that she was in her bare feet and standing on her tiptoes to try to even things out, it amazed her how they managed to fit together. Perfectly.

It was what he needed to know. His hands had a life of their own. They traveled all over her, learning the texture of her skin in places he had only dreamed about touching before. He ran a thumb over the sensitive skin of her thigh, slid his fingers down to her knee and back again before he traced the edges of her panties, first along the top, and then along the sides. He hesitated a second before touching the most intimate part of her through the fabric. The heat he felt on contact nearly did him in.

A small moan that surely couldn't have come from her worked its way out of her mouth. Startled, never expecting to be able to make such a wanton or womanly sound, Trixie closed her eyes when she felt him touching her there. She ordered herself to relax and did a pretty good job of it. About to say something, she felt his lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth, and returned it, like for like. Lost in the kiss, she almost didn't feel the slight tug. She did feel the air as the rest of her was uncovered. Breathing heavily, she looked up, just as a spray of moonlight broke through the clouds and landed on them, catching them in its majestic glow. "Oh, Jim," she got out raspily, resting her head against his bare chest. Her hands grasped his shoulders weakly.

He guided her down gently onto the blanket, laying her on her back, his eyes on her the entire time. Her blonde curls stood out against it. She didn't protest, only stared back at him with the same amount of passion that he knew had to be reflected in his own. When she reached up and touched the nape of his neck, he let her pull his head back to her lips. He had a new destination he wanted to explore, more than he ever thought possible, and thought he would perish if he wasn't able to experience it.

"God, let me. Let me," he mumbled into her ear, unable to believe that they were doing what they were about to do. Understanding, she nodded her head, giving him the permission he needed before he trailed a hand down her body and found the core of her again. He felt the outside, amazed that she was even hotter than she had been before. As his lips claimed hers again, he slipped one finger in. He swallowed her gasp, gave her back a stifled moan of his own, and began preparing her for what was about to come. He learned the feel of her quickly, was beyond amazed by how giving she was, how ready she was and how willing she was to meet him. Her hips wasted no time and rocked with him, as if her body had known all along what it was supposed to do and only needed him to wake her up. Her arms clung around him, her hands idly moving up and down his back while he continued the most amazing ministrations of her life. When another finger joined, she didn't gasp. She only hung on tighter and became irrevocably lost, giving herself over to him, letting him lead her where they both now, quite desperately, wanted and needed to go.

Being with Jim this way promised to be the greatest adventure of her life to date, even better than the most complicated mystery she had ever solved. She became aware of Jim leaving her to quickly shed the rest of his own clothes. She heard a tearing sound, understood that he was protecting them, and felt a small grin tug at her lips. Then he was back, as was his mouth and hands, and she wasn't capable of rational thought, let alone speech. Her mind shut off, completely and totally, as she gave in totally to the daring side of her. A pressure began to build within, something totally foreign yet exciting at the same time, and centered around the work of his fingers. Her short nails flexed into the skin of his bare back while her breathing quickened and turned raspy, as if she were nearing the end of a marathon.

When it was time, when there wasn't any possibility of turning back or calling a halt to the provocative proceedings, he paused, his eyes focused solely on her. A million stars twinkled in the dark purple of the sky above them, serving as their only witnesses. Easy, natural, and real, just as the two of them were. "Trixie," he managed to get out through the effort it took not to thrust into her. The control he was exuding was amazing, a testament to the love he felt for her, and the way she made him feel. "I don't want to hurt you." He would. He knew it. It was inevitable.

Leave it Jim to worry about her. Her smile was tremulous and filled with love for the handsome man above her. With gentle hands smoothing and soothing him, she stated simply, "I know." Then she kissed him, long and deeply, and waited for the ultimate dance to commence. "I'll be fine, Jim."

Her lips, her tongue, and the throaty little moans she was making were driving him insane. Past the point of no return, regretting that he would hurt her but unable not to, he started to enter her, inexpertly at first but he soon figured out where to thrust. He inched in a little at a time, feeling her stretch to accommodate him. The heat, the wetness, and the welcome within nearly overpowered him. His gasp was audible, rang throughout the clearing like the loud clinging of a bell, as he became bolder and broke the whole way through, joining their bodies until they were well and truly one individual. "My God," he breathed out reverently, collapsing on her, his breath coming in ragged pants and warm on her neck, while he reveled in the feeling of being within the one he loved. It wasn't amazing. It wasn't astonishing. It was beyond any word that had ever been created, beyond anything he had ever thought existed. "You can't even begin to imagine, Trixie. My God," he repeated, since words were rapidly becoming something he couldn't think, let alone form. He waited, fervently praying that she was experiencing the same overload of feelings that he was, and stayed as still as she could while he hoped that she became used to him.

There had been one brief moment of pain, not as bad as she had expected and certainly not debilitating or anything that elicited more than a brief, sharp gasp from her. As soon as his body melded into hers, she knew it wasn't a mistake, that it was meant to be. She couldn't imagine anything ever coming between them. They were perfect together. Perfectly perfect, as was their night. Lifting her head, meeting the anxious face above hers, she answered, trailing a finger along the edge of his cheek, "I can imagine, Jim. Even better, I know."

It was the green light he needed to continue. The smile he gave her lit up his whole face. His hands settled by her sides, bunching up the blanket underneath them, and then he started to move within her. His first movements were experimental only, showing him how much he could handle before he became quicker and she started to learn his rhythm and match it with hers. The dance was tentative at first, two young lovers going over the threshold for the very first time, but it was beautiful and bold. It was a strange mixture of sweet and power and continued for as long as they could hold it. The length of time didn't matter. Not this time. They were both overwhelmed with the potency of it. Finally, with their sweat mingling, their breathing labored, and their bodies straining towards something that neither had ever thought could possibly exist, let alone something that they would ever experience, they finished riding out the wave they were on, completely, totally and together.

Breathing wasn't easy. It came in great gasps. Sweat had popped out over him, making the warm May night seem even more sultry and like summer than it actually was. Jim felt her underneath him and honestly, well and truly, believed that he could never feel as happy or as complete as he did right now. He stayed within her for a minute longer, relishing the feelings of being joined, before it was time to pull out. Carefully, he quickly took care of the more awkward aspect of the aftermath, placing the used condom off to the side, well out of her sight and retaking his spot next to her with a speed that made her blink. Their legs intertwined immediately. He reached out and smoothed a large hand over her soft, silky curls before he ended on his favorite one. As if it was the first time he had ever tugged on it, he pulled it and watched it spring back to its rightful spot. With a wealth of love welling up within him, both for the girl who had given him a new life and a family to the woman who had given him both her heart and her body, he pressed a soft, tender kiss to her forehead and said, "Thank you."

"For what?" Trixie asked, inclining her head to the side in a manner he found endearing. A rosy blush blossomed across her face at the intent stare he was giving her.

"For being you," he answered simply and honestly. He couldn't come up with the words to express all that she meant to him. A man who preferred actions over words anytime of the day or, in this case, the night, he took her lips again in a long, leisurely kiss.

Amazingly, she didn't feel self-conscious about her body, her naked, uncovered body, splayed out for Jim to see. There was something completely earthy and wonderful about being next to the one that she loved with her entire being, with only the gentle light from the moon surrounding them. It was the stuff her dreams were made of. As she fingered the ends of his hair, she knew her dreams were going to be much more interesting and stimulating from now on. But she was cold, chillier than she expected, and shivered as a light, breezy wind ran over them.

So in-tune to her and now to every nuance of her body, he didn't waste a minute. He reached over, grabbed his shirt, and spread it over her, covering her and keeping her warm. "Is that better?" he mumbled into her ear, kissing the soft, sensitive skin behind it, and laid a possessive hand on the bare skin of her leg.

She shivered again but it had nothing to do with cool air. "Much," she mumbled breathlessly, amazed that she could think, let alone speak, after such a momentous and wonderful experience. She laid her head on his bare chest, glanced down at their intertwined bare legs. Her heart was so happy it felt like it was going to explode. She couldn't ever remember experiencing so many emotions at once and let out a giddy little giggle, pleased with the way the night had turned out.

If her father found out what he had done, he figured he was a dead man. Even that thought couldn't keep the biggest, widest grin from spreading across his face. He pulled her tighter against him, his hand resting lightly on her bare hip, and kneaded the soft skin below his fingers. He couldn't stop touching her and wished that time could stand still. He never wanted to leave the clearing they were in. He wanted to be with her at Ten Acres. Forever.

"What are you thinking about?" Lovely blue eyes found his, wondering about the speculative expression spreading across his features.

"Everything. Nothing." He laughed, shook his red head, and shifted his body when the hard earth started to register below him. "And, well, everything."

"That sounds fascinating," she teased him playfully. Trixie hesitated but tentatively reached out and splayed her hand on his naked side. She watched, fascinated, when the muscles jumped reflexively under her touch, and marveled at the fact that she had the right to touch him anytime she felt like it. It was a right she never wanted to relinquish. In fact, she couldn't imagine anything ever coming between them. To her, it was inconceivable. An absolute impossibility. "You may have to clue me in."

"I'm just….planning," he settled on, meeting her laugh with one of his, and nuzzled her hair. He grinned when the curls tickled his nose.

"You are rather good at that. Planning, I mean," Trixie replied dryly. Getting a little bolder, she went lower, splaying her fingers along the side of his hip and feeling an inner sigh of female satisfaction within when he drew in a sharp breath. With a feline grin, she dropped her head back. "Are they good plans?"

His arm snaked out and wrapped around her waist. Pulling him towards him, he fisted his other hand loosely in her curls and thought about the future he wanted them to have, the future he had just seen in his mind. Their house on Ten Acres. His school. Her detective agency. Right here, in Sleepyside. They would be right next door to their families, within walking distance. It couldn't be more perfect. It would take hard work, commitment, and a lot of support but he didn't have a doubt that they would manage to meet all of their goals, as well as the unexpected ones along the way, and that they would do it together, every single step of the way, starting with NYU in the fall and then moving along from there. "The best," he answered simply and hugged her to him tighter. His hands began to trace lazy circles on her.

For once, she didn't give in to the urge to question until she knew every answer. It was enough to have the most private of all mysteries finally answered for her. As far as she was concerned, there wasn't anything that could beat the love she felt for Jim. Content to stay within his arms, wrapped up in his shirt, and their legs tangled together, she laid her head back down and stared up into the midnight sky above them. Never had she expected the night to take such a turn. She had dreamed about it, fantasized about it, but had not actually contemplated taking the final plunge. There were no regrets, not by a long shot. Watching him, memorizing every nuance of his face, she thought about their shared dreams. Her and Jim, together, as far as she could see. With her lips curving up, she leaned back against him, his arms around her, and sighed in deep contentment, secure in the love they felt for each other and the strength of their future. Nothing could ever come between them. Nothing.


	2. The Broken Road Chapter 27

**The Broken Road  
Chapter Twenty-Seven**

From her spot in the corner of the backseat, Trixie watched Las Vegas go by, her forehead pressed up against the glass and her heart thumping in time with the whir of the wheels. Trepidation. It held a stranglehold over her. She held herself as far away from Jim as she could politely make it without it seeming like she was trying to put distance between them, which was, ironically enough, exactly what she wanted to do. She hadn't uttered a word to him other than a small muted 'thank you' after he'd done the gentlemanly thing and opened the door for her, ten agonizing minutes earlier. She attempted to focus all her attention on the passing scenery but wasn't very successful. All she was aware of, could be aware of, was the handsome man sharing the same seat with her. The man who'd just participated in a wedding ceremony with her. The man who wore an identical ring to the one that encircled her left ring finger. She blew out a breath, slow and steady, and tried to find something to be grateful for. There had to be something. The only thing she could settle on was the fact that they were alone. Not a single Young was in sight. Their hosts had chosen to stay behind at the restaurant to visit with the owner and his wife, leaving the _newly married_ couple on their own. As Ginny had put it before their departure with a large, lavish wink, it was time for them to start their wedding night. Trixie squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed an inward groan of apprehension.

From the other side of the backseat, Jim eyed his prey and waited with the sainted patience of an eagle. He understood her need for solitude. Even more importantly, he understood that now was not the time to push into it. He'd have to wait until they were alone...really alone. He gave a shrug of a shoulder and turned to look out his window. Conversation was overrated, anyhow. This was a case where actions were going to speak much louder than words possibly could. It wouldn't be too much longer before they reached their hotel. Then it was just a short elevator ride to their suite. With narrowed eyes, he silently vowed not to be so understanding once they were alone in their suite, or so quiet. He turned around the new article of jewelry he wore on his finger, over and over again, a small smile lightly playing across his lips. Hell, he was looking forward to it.

After five more minutes of tense silence, the taxi driver pulled up to their hotel. Moving with a quickness that was generally attributed to her, Jim tossed a few bills into the front seat, opened his door and was out on the sidewalk, waiting for her, practically before the taxi driver had a chance to bark out his fare. He waited for her to join him, emerald eyes dark with impatience. In direct contrast, Trixie moved much slower. Warily, she put one foot on the blacktop, then the other before slowly unfolding herself from the backseat, making sure to take her time. She was in no hurry to get upstairs. One long intake of air was supposed to be fortifying but it didn't do anything more than to provide her with the required amount of oxygen her body needed. A slight frown creased her forehead. She crossed over to Jim, hesitant and unsure of herself, as the events of the evening started to fall upon her with the unwieldy weight of a thousand bricks. Pressing her hands against her thighs, she didn't notice Jim pull out his cell phone or send a quick text but she did hear his softly whispered order.

"For God's sake, Trixie! Smile!" he hissed out after getting his first good look at her face. She was pale and looked more like she'd recently attended a funeral, not a wedding. He pasted one on himself. After grabbing her elbow, he started leading her into the hotel. "You of all people have got to know we're most likely being watched by someone in Mr. Young's entourage. It's important that we at least act like a happily newly married couple, whether we're really one or not."

Her fingers tightened around her purse, holding the item in a death grip. She tried not to grimace. He was right. Professionally, it rubbed her raw that he was the one who realized the need to continue their charade. Personally…it was a different matter altogether. "All right," she agreed quietly. It took quite an effort, nearly a Herculean one, but she managed to pull it off. Her answering smile rivaled the multitude of sparkling lights brightening up the water fountain. Only someone who truly knew her would have recognized that it was full of artifice.

He eyed her intently. He saw the truth. But it would suit. After nodding his approval, Jim kept a strong grip on her elbow. He realized that she needed something to help keep her grounded, a job he was more than willing to take on. Carefully, he steered her into the hotel. It amazed him how easily she let him lead, proving to him more than words could say that she was in a very unusual state. Shock, astonishment, disbelief. Any and all could describe her right now…and him, if he was being completely truthful. Once they were safely inside, he made an immediate beeline for the elevators. While he appeared calm and in control on the outside, inside he was a mass of conflicting and overpowering emotions, exactly like her. Blindly he reached out, pushed the up button, and waited expectantly for the elevator to land on their floor. Each minute felt like an eon. And the whole time he kept his hand firmly on her.

Through veiled lashes, Trixie looked downward. She saw long fingers wrapped around her bare elbow. Long, strong fingers. Those fingers kept her body close to his, so close that only a thin amount of air separated them. A toe began to tap nervously while her fingers began to drum against the side of her thigh. She hated to admit it. It galled her to but this was the very first time on a mission where she felt completely and totally out of control. There wasn't a bad guy in sight or the possibility of some unwanted hostile activity ahead. Oh, no. There was only the promise of extreme solitude between the two of them looming ahead, where he more than deserved a few answers for the unexpected escapade of the night. And she…she'd have to apologize and explain and also keep the depths of her emotions hidden from him. Bravely, she kept the smile from fleeing her face. The conversation looming ahead scared the hell out of her.

While waiting, Jim watched her. He noticed every single thing. She was fidgety; couldn't stay still. Her face didn't have an ounce of color to it. Plus, her eyes weren't as brilliant as normal. While a smile graced her face, it was tiny, forced, and completely devoid of her usual warmth. Barely resisting the urge to scuff the floor with his shoe, he had an exceptionally strong idea why she was acting so out of sorts. The answer gleamed off her left ring finger.

Being careful not to look fully at Jim or the trio of laughing couples exiting the elevator, she entered and immediately pivoted around on her thin heels. She stared straight ahead; didn't acknowledge Jim's presence, and waited for the doors to close. For once, she didn't complete the scan of the elevator. Nope. She wasn't planning on saying or doing anything. She was more focused on enjoying her last few moments before they would return to their suite.

Jim had to step in front of her to push the button for their floor. Testing her, he intentionally brushed against her side. It gave him a dark thrill of delight when she jumped at the unexpected contact. For the first time since the unexpected ceremony, his smile truly warmed his eyes. Impatiently he watched the little red digital numbers count upwards. While she didn't want the privacy the suite promised them, he couldn't wait for it. He wanted it.

She fought the urge to touch where he'd brushed up against her. She could still feel the tingles that remained behind. Trying to ignore them, and him, proved to be a nearly impossible feat. Trixie stared at the closed elevator doors, her hands now bunching up the expensive material of her dress, and watched with an overwhelming feeling of dread as the numbers cheerfully changed, bringing them closer and closer to their floor. To their suite. In a few short minutes, whether she wanted it to happen or not, they were going to have their first dose of real privacy. They were going to be in their hotel suite, away from prying eyes, vigilant observers, and any possible recording devices. There were only a few people, namely Max or Dan, who would be available to cut into the privacy. Although it was cowardly of her, for once she sincerely hoped they did. They'd serve as quite a nice buffer, one she most anxiously needed.

When the elevator let out its cheerful ding to let them know they'd reached their destination, Jim was once again the first one off. "Almost there," he remarked needlessly, just to say something to break the silence. Without waiting for her response, he re-cupped her elbow and led her down the hallway.

She nodded dumbly. Somewhere along the way she remembered to pull her cell out so she could be ready to scan the room although she seriously doubted if anything untoward had happened in their room; not with Dan and Max standing guard during their absence. Better safe than sorry, she thought with a bubble of hysteria beginning to build up again.

When they reached their door, Jim paused. In a moment they were going to be inside. Alone. His fingers flexed against the soft skin of Trixie's elbow before he reluctantly let her go. After pulling out the key card, he swiftly swiped it with an experienced flick of his wrist, and pushed open the door. He intentionally didn't flick on the overhead lights. She slipped past him, quiet as a whisper, wary as a cat, and immediately moved to the other end of the living room. Grinning to himself, he palmed a little sign and hung it on the outside of the doorknob for anyone in the hallway to see. He closed the door. The sound wasn't loud; was only a small, normal, every-day sort of a click. But it carried with it an unusual sense of finality, one that he recognized. They were finally alone.

Trixie spent an inordinate amount of time scanning the room. Exactly as she'd expected, they were safe. Ignoring the fact that they were unarguably alone, she strolled through the living room and flicked on a brass lamp. A muted light cut through the shadows. "Well," she began, her words practically tripping over themselves in their hurry to find their way out of her mouth, "I'm glad to say that the suite is once again safe and secure. Max and Dan took care of it well. No problems to report. Not that I expected anything less, of course. You know our room hasn't been searched since the very first time we left it. That's a good thing. Mr. Young never deemed it necessary to have another search conducted here."

Jim watched the words tumble out, finding it unbelievably comforting to realize that she was downright tense. It was endearing, in an odd sort of a way. Plus he comprehended the reasons for it. It wasn't often that someone's pretend fiancé ended up becoming someone's pretend husband. He leaned up against the wall and offered an inarticulate sound of encouragement, just to see what she would do or say next, all the while plotting what he'd like to do…and soon. Very, very soon.

Trixie paused to take a much-needed breath. Not wanting to give Jim a chance to start questioning, complaining, or maligning the hands of fate that had brought them to such an unusual crossroads, hoping that if she kept up a steady stream of conversation he'd simply forget to bring up their new status, she continued, her voice gaining in both speed and volume, "After today, I believe Mr. Young trusts us once again. Or maybe trust isn't the most accurate word to use. I don't know. Anyway, if Mart were here, he'd be able to help me out and give me the best word possible. You know my brother. He's still our resident walking dictionary. He hasn't met a word yet that he doesn't like!" She ended on a strangled sort of a giggle, wondering how on earth she'd managed to bring up Mart's name into the disastrous debacle that was her Las Vegas mission.

"That's Mart Belden for you." Jim watched her closely, an amused glint to his eyes, and wondered how much rope she was going to need before she hung herself. Figuratively speaking, of course.

"Gleeps! It certainly is." Trixie offered up a high-pitched laugh. It sounded unnatural to her own ears and made her flinch. In serious need of a distraction, hoping to do anything that would make him forget that they were…or, more accurately, that their characters were married, she stared at the closed connecting door and wondered where the hell the other men who always interrupted them were. Max? Dan? Hell, she'd welcome Shane right now, anything to not have to face the man she'd kinda…sorta…well, not legally but just actually…wed. Oh God. Her head was starting to hurt from the strain of it all. She put a hand to her right temple in hopes of soothing away the ache. A single name burst out, so much so that she almost yelled it. "Dan. Where is he? I'm surprised he's not here, waiting for us."

And he wouldn't be, not if he valued his life. The memory of the text message he'd sent to their good friend fresh in his mind, Jim offered a casual shrug in lieu of an answer, unwilling to offer up what he'd done. Somehow, he didn't think she'd appreciate hearing that he'd promised either immediate death or permanent dismemberment to anyone who dared to encroach upon their territory or that it was Dan's duty to pass the message along to any of the other inhabitants right next door to them. Definitely not a good idea to share that particular gem with her…at least, not yet. He was one hundred percent certain that no one was going to be bothering them tonight…and one hundred percent certain that she wouldn't appreciate his efforts. Right now.

Spinning around, Trixie walked over to the other side of the room. She began playing with a loose tendril of hair, nervously twisting it around and around her finger. "Do you think Dan left the suite?" she asked in an overly bright tone of voice. It was a truly stupid thing to say, only proved how restless and nervous she was.

"No." Again, Jim didn't offer anything else, merely watched the woman who was displaying the most interesting case of apprehension he'd ever had the pleasure of witnessing. It was fascinating, from the light blush highlighting her cheeks to the blue eyes that focused on everywhere else but at him to the fingers that couldn't be still. Yeah, she was most definitely agitated. It made the ends of his lips curl up, in a purely male sort of a way. He crossed his arms over his chest, made himself comfortable against the wall, and prepared to watch what she'd do next. The ball was firmly in her court. Would she bobble it?

No? All he could say was no? Nothing else? She was left fumbling for something else to say. The silence settled around them but it was nowhere near as comfortable as an old, soft, worn blanket. Oh, no. Trixie's heart seemed to be picking up in rhythm, beating so fast she was surprised he couldn't hear it. She drew in a soft series of breaths to hopefully settle herself. But it didn't work. "Ah, well, you're right, "she stammered out, trying to search for a response that didn't make her sound like a total idiot. "Dan wouldn't leave. He knows he's not allowed to. I guess he's probably with Max, then."

Hell, she was adorable when she was rattled. Jim didn't move from his spot, merely crossed one ankle over the other, and made a low hum, one she could take as agreement or not. He looked at the closed connecting door, secure in the knowledge that no one was going to be bothering them tonight.

Trixie actually felt the blush heat up. Angling her head so he couldn't see her face, she tapped a finger against her thigh and inquired, thinking maybe if she talked shop it would help even matters out or make her feel less like the village idiot, "Did you hear that Mr. Young is going to finalize our deal tomorrow?"

Jim lifted an eyebrow. Deciding he liked not responding; or, more accurately, he liked how nervous she became around him when he chose not to respond, he merely uttered another unintelligible sound. Just to see how she would react. He wasn't disappointed.

This time Trixie actually wrung her hands and growled. As far as she was concerned, enough was enough. "Damn it, Jim!" exploded out of her. "There's supposed to be a give and take in a conversation, no matter how asinine it is. You realize you could actually partake in it, don't you?"

"Maybe I'm not _partaking_ yet because you haven't brought up the right topic." He watched her, more intently than she realized.

And she flamed. A bright, vivid, vibrant red. Her eyes dropped to the carpet. There was no way she was going to look at him…not right now, not right after... "I know what you're talking about," she mumbled lowly, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "I've been trying to avoid it."

"You've been doing an excellent job. Possibly the best tap-dancing routine I've ever heard." Jim pushed himself away from the wall and began walking towards her. Stalking may have been a more apt term. His steps carried a definitive purpose to them, one she didn't realize yet, while the green of his eyes slowly darkened with purpose.

"I'm sorry. I'm really, really, really, really sorry." She couldn't lift her gaze from the floor. Unconsciously she started to memorize the intricate pattern in the expensive carpeting. Anything to not look up at him. Anything to not see the questions on his face or the disappointment or the…regret she expected to find there. Her lips pulled back in an ugly grimace.

Deciding neutral was the only way to go, he offered soothingly, surprising her, "Let it go, Trix. It's not your fault."

"No. Only my job's." Unbelievably weary, she let out a long sigh and dropped her cell and her purse on a nearby table. The contents spilled out. She didn't notice. She started to run her hand over her hair but stopped when she realized her hair was pulled up. Since that avenue was closed, she ended up fingering a lampshade. Without glancing in his direction, she muttered, "It's not real though, you know. We've got at least that much going for us right now. Neither of us has to worry about any legal ramifications from the after-effects of tonight. We are not the ones who got married tonight. It was Beatrix Johnson and James Hart, not us. That's how it'll go down, legally."

 _It certainly had felt real._ Ignoring the tiny taunting voice, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and answered calmly, "I know. I understand the law. I'm a lawyer, remember?"

"Yeah." This time she kicked the leg of the table. It wasn't hard enough to hurt. It definitely wasn't hard enough to make her feel better. "You're being awfully understanding about all this, Jim. I expected you to be mad or something. I know it wasn't exactly what you'd volunteered to do when you were recruited to help me out." Trixie blew out a frustrated breath. Finally daring to crack open an eye, she was met with the sight of his polished black shoes about three feet from her. Since it seemed safer all around to talk to his shoes instead of his face, she added, "None of this was. It's been an insane couple of days here. Nothing has happened the way it was supposed to be. Nothing. You've been…I mean, what I'm trying to say…Gleeps! You've been truly amazing through it all. For that, I'm so grateful."

"Don't worry about it." He angled his head to the side in a vain attempt to get a good look at her face.

His calm response surprised her further. Trixie bravely lifted her chin; ended up staring at his knees this time. "This mission has been a mess since the very beginning," she admitted softly. "I owe you so much, you know, for everything you've done. We never would have gotten this far without you. Thank you," she ended on a hoarse whisper.

Since it was obvious she wasn't going to look at him without the aid of some serious prodding, he reached out and tipped her chin up. In a show of her stubborn spirit, she didn't meet his eyes. Her refusal to look directly at him only made him appreciate her even more. Stubbornness. It was quite a defining character trait of hers. He brushed his free hand over the top of her head before saying huskily, "No thanks are needed, Trix. It's been my pleasure. Believe me."

The air seemed to stop around them. For the first time since Ginny Young had revealed her grand plan for the evening, she looked up and truly gazed into his face. Her beautiful eyes, the ones that had haunted him from the very first moment he'd looked into them in a ramshackle old mansion, slowly grew and intensified with the most glorious amount of wonder in them. "Jim," she breathed out. Her heart was once again pounding but it wasn't because she was worried about his reaction to their 'marriage'. No; her heart starting racing for an entirely different reason.

Jim slipped out of his black jacket and let it carelessly fall in an untidy heap to the floor. Next was the thin scrap of fabric that had been his tie. One quick tug and it was no more. Without breaking eye contact, he took one large step towards her. It effectively closed any remaining distance between them.

She found herself backed up against the wall. While there were many misunderstandings, mistakes and just plain misconceptions residing between them from their painful past, there was no way she could mistake what he was telling her now. No words were needed. Nothing was needed but the expression on his face. Her brain quickly went into shut-down mood. An impossible achievement, since he hadn't even touched her yet. And she very badly wanted him to. So very badly. She had enough sense left to mumble, "Jim…wait…what…about…"

"No need to worry," he cut her off, a large freckled hand settling at her trim waist. He took a second to appreciate the sight of his hand against the ivory of her dress before he hauled her against him. Tightly. Damn, they were a great fit. The best. How the hell had he ever allowed himself to forget it? He bent down, inch by inch. "Remember that text I sent when we were outside?"

"No," she replied truthfully. She had absolutely no recollection of it. And she didn't care, not when she was having trouble keeping her mind on the conversation. He wasn't helping matters either. He'd started running his other hand lightly up and down her side, eliciting tantalizing tingle after tantalizing tingle. She couldn't prevent a small moan of need from escaping her lips and unconsciously tipped her head back.

A grin that could only be termed cocky wreathed his face. Leaning down, he nuzzled her exposed neck before whispering throatily, "I'll fill you in. I'll give you the abbreviated version. I sent it to our fellow wandering Bob-White. I made it perfectly clear that we were not to be disturbed tonight. By anyone," he added meaningfully.

"Oh!" She stretched the word out, making it much longer than the simple sound should have been. Slowly, the depth of his meaning sank in. He'd made sure they weren't to be disturbed. He'd taken the time to make sure they weren't disturbed. He'd done it…while they were outside. Which meant…Astonished, she shared, her voice twinged with the most amazing sound of awe, "I understand."

"Do you?" he questioned quietly, pressing a line of soft kisses against her collar bone.

She nodded. "I was so worried you were going to be mad or shocked or disappointed or downright furious or…" She shot him a look from underneath her lashes when he lifted his head. Nervously, she giggled, "You get the picture, right?"

"I can take care of all those points. Right now. Let me start by assuring you that I am not mad." He changed directions, brushed his lips against the side of her mouth. Gliding across, he gave another kiss on the opposite side, making her toes curl. "Or shocked." Then he trailed kisses down to the sensitive hollow of her neck. "Or disappointed." When he came back up, he breathed hotly in her ear, "Or downright furious."

A low moan was his reward. With her breath coming in ragged shallows, she answered hoarsely, "I'm so glad." Her heels gave her an added height she couldn't help but be grateful for. Standing on tiptoes, hardly daring to believe what was happening between them was really happening; she pushed her lithe body up against his.

"Tell me about it," he whispered and drew back to take a moment to appreciate the lovely lady in his arms. Seriously, he shared, "We've got the whole night to ourselves, Trix. No one's going to bother us. You've got my promise."

"What…what do you have in mind?" she inquired, striving for a playful tone while her heart was hammering out the liveliest of tunes.

He started gently tugging. It didn't take too long before the mass of golden curls were once again framing her face and the pins holding it up were no more. Pleased with his work, he suggested, straight-faced, "Poker, maybe?"

"I hear you're pretty good at it," she joked back with a charming laugh. Tentatively, she laid her hand on his chest and was surprised to note that his heart was beating just as fast as hers.

"You're wrong. I suck at it," he admitted without a qualm while he threaded his fingers through her curls. As he slanted her head back, he started to bend down and murmured, "There's something else I'd much rather be doing."

"Gleeps. Me, too." Her answer was breathy, soft and slow. All she could see was his beloved face as he loomed in closer. And when his lips claimed hers, gently, tenderly; all rational thought fled, to be replaced with a desire that was almost insane in its overwhelming power. All she could think was more. Now. All she could ever want was him. Now. It was as clear as the moonlight winding its way through the curtains. He was for her. And she was for him. Right in the here; right in the now. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him as tight as she possibly could, while she pressed up against his, silently demanding more.

Reveling in her passionate response, hardly daring to believe that they were finally at such a turning point in their relationship, he held on and met her, kiss for kiss, touch for touch, moan for moan. His mouth slashed across hers, increasing in force, while desire flowed through his veins. Only when it got too much, too fast, did he stop to take a break, his chest heaving and his breath rough and ragged.

"Jim." His name was like a beloved poem, tripping lightly off her lips. Sighing, she nuzzled against his chest. Her hands bunched the expensive fabric of his shirt, wrinkling it. She didn't care. She nearly tore it off. With her breath finally evening out, she shared hesitantly, "I'm almost afraid to believe that this is real."

A finger traced the place where her skin met dress across her back. He danced along the edge until he felt the zipper. He started to play with it, and nearly, very nearly, gave in to the urge to pull it down. Sensing they weren't quite ready for that, he reluctantly dropped his hand. "It _is_ real," he answered huskily. "Believe it, Trixie Belden. The only thing I'm wondering about right now is why the hell we ever waited so damn long."

Startled, she drew back and took in the serious expression on his face. Even though she wasn't comfortable with flirtatious, she gave it a valiant attempt and succeeded beyond her wildest imaginings. "Well, since we've wasted so much time," she began, her eyelashes fanning her cheeks becomingly as she slanted a coy glance his way. "It only seems right that we really make the effort to make up for it."

His answer was a long, slow, exceedingly delighted grin. "That sounds like the best idea I've heard in a very long time."

The next kiss was as equally potent as the first. Possibly more so, now that they both were clear as crystal in their thoughts. She wrapped her arms around him, reveled in the feeling of having the right to touch him again. She met each kiss with the same verve, the same ferocity, the same passion, her body melting against his where she found it hard to discover where she stopped and he began. Hands raced over each other, encountering hard muscle, silky skin, and soft hair. She didn't know how long they engaged in the kiss. It didn't matter. As long as she was with him, she was fast learning that nothing mattered.

Finally, he gave in. With much less finesse than he would have liked to exhibit, he reached around, fumbled with the zipper, and started pulling it down, his movements more jerky than smooth. A flush appeared on his face, one that had nothing to do with the exertion of their passionate encounter.

The sound couldn't be mistaken. Her eyes popped wide open. She found herself looking deeply into a set of deep green, turbulent with a need she felt all the way through her. His hand went still, flattened against her back. Seeing him uncertain made her want him even more. Without talking, keeping him trapped within her sapphire gaze, she brought her hand up around to where he'd stopped pulling at the zipper. Looking him square in the eye, letting every single ounce of desire pour through and shine out, showing him plainly how much she wanted him, she suggested, her voice raw and low, "Let me finish."

Three words. Three tiny words. And he had his answer. Final and absolute. Unable to take his eyes off her, his breathing already raspy and hoarse, he watched with bated breath as she slipped the zipper the rest of the way down. The ivory slid away, to reveal the dazzling goddess before him. His next breath of air caught in his throat. His mind completely stopped working. There, in front of him, was the embodiment of every dream he'd ever kept buried, of every secret wish he'd wanted to have but never believed he could have fulfilled, of every single thing he'd ever hoped to aspire, even through the broken years they spent apart from each other. To put it simply, she was everything.

Inside, she was trembling…and not entirely with desire. Never one totally confident in her appearance, she unknowingly started to chew on her bottom lip while Jim took his time to peruse her. Sweat pooled in the palms she held against her thighs. A frown creased her forehead. She thought she knew what he was seeing. However, she was very wrong.

Desire was clambering to be unleashed, a primitive, primal beat. He ignored it and took the time to study her, starting with the mass of curls tumbling down to gently caress her shoulders. Her beautiful face, with her wide eyes, pert nose, and giving mouth. God, she was gorgeous. Hell, she was his. Hungrily, his gaze moved downwards, to her chest. A strapless white bra was the last bit of fabric barring him from completely seeing her. A tempting amount of skin was displayed above the material, calling out to him to touch. He valiantly ignored it, moved down to view her toned stomach. He zeroed in on her scar before taking note of the matching white panties. High-cut, they were, and exposed a great deal of long, lean, and impossibly bronzed leg. Sheer hose added a shimmery quality and ended at the top of her thigh. His fingers itched to feel the contrasting texture of skin and silk.

The wall felt solid behind her back. She pressed back against it, needing its support to stand, while the quiet continued around them. Nerves brewed furiously, a fiery cauldron. Squaring her shoulders, unaware that the motion put her breasts even more prominently on display and that he couldn't help but look right at them, she called up enough courage to prod him on. "Jim?" she intoned questioningly, a finger twisting a long, spiraling curl.

His eyes traveled back up to hers. If she'd had any questions about his intentions, they rapidly dissipated. The hunger couldn't be ignored, misconstrued or, as her pounding heart informed her, denied. "Hell, Trix. You've got to forgive me. You are just so damn beautiful," he got out roughly past a knot of need lodged deep within his throat.

"No, I'm…" Stunned, her eyebrows shot up. Memories of another time, another place, when they'd held a very similar conversation in a very similar context flashed vividly before her. Her mouth formed a small O of astonishment. Even after all this time; after all the pain, after all their problems, he still found her beautiful. "Jim," she breathed reverently, awed by the power brought on by the memory. She held a hand gently over her heart.

He hadn't made the connection; hadn't recalled yet an innocent walk on a prom night that had ultimately escalated into something much more memorable and meaningful in a moonlight clearing at Ten Acres, seven long and broken years in their past. "Beautiful," he murmured again. _And mine._ The thought formed, wasn't spoken, was held tightly to him. At least for now. Without waiting for her reaction, he dove in for another taste. This time, the passion that flared so effortlessly between them couldn't be tamed or contained. His hands dug into her hips, pulling her flush against him where she wouldn't be able to have any doubt of his desire for her, while his tongue dueled wildly with hers. All the while he hoped she realized that he was branding her as his.

The power. The incredible passion. The sweetness of it all. It was hard to deny. And yet it was nothing compared to the tenderness of the memory of that long-ago night. Although they had managed to steal a few other moments before things had gone so totally wrong between them, nothing in her mind had equaled the majestic magic of their first time together. Trixie kept her eyes closed. The wonder of it all came back at her. A shudder shook her, one for all they'd managed to lose. A lone tear came next. It slipped out, started to trickle its way down her cheek.

Jim couldn't help but feel the change in emotion within her. He drew back, concerned. Surprise quickly turned to worry. "Trixie?" he spoke earnestly, using his fingers to wipe away the trial of moisture. "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, no." Unruly blonde curls bounced with the negative shake of her head. "No, not at all. You'd never…no, it's not that. I was just…"

When her voice trailed off, he traced the edge of her cheekbone, hoping to soothe, wanting to comfort. Needing to touch. "You just what?" he asked lowly.

"Remembering." The word was spoken quietly and yet reverberated around the silent room with the force of a thousand canons.

Jim's competent hands stopped. The next breath he drew in was clearly audible. Slowly, he expelled it out. Raw, he replied, "I understand."

Tear-filled eyes looked helplessly up into his. She saw he did, well and truly, and pushed herself further against his chest, knowing she'd be able to draw some much-needed strength from him. Needing it, she carefully rested her head on him. The sound of his heart beating underneath helped calm her more than anything else. Her answer was muffled against his chest. "I knew you would."

His hand dove into the tumbling mass of golden curls. He held her head against him, his arms providing her the sanctuary she so desperately needed right now. She, in turn, and without realizing it, returned the same courtesy to him. A small grin curved his lips after she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on as tightly to him as he was to her. After a few minutes of merely enjoying holding each other, he decided to find out what came next. Almost anxiously, he posed the next question, praying she would give him the answer he wanted right now, "Umm, Trix? What do we do now?"

She lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest. Looking through eyes the color of soaked sapphires, she replied quietly, "It's simple, Jim. We have to try and make some memories. Better memories."

Jim's eyebrows shot straight up. The answer sank in. She was giving him the green light to proceed. Thanking the fates for the second chance, he let out a relieved sigh. "I like the way you think, Belden," he remarked with a wickedness that contradicted the strain of honorableness that ran through him. Grinning, he splayed a possessive hand in the adorable nether region just below her hips and brought her forward. "I really like the way you think."

A happy little giggle filled the air. As she'd declared earlier, she was ready for some new memories. The slate was clean. Her voice was husky. "It's our night, Jim."

"It is," Jim agreed. He ran the back of his hand up and down the side of her thigh and appreciated the fact that she dropped her head back so that he could look directly into her face. Gazing down at the alluring woman in his arms, he declared, his voice raspy with desire, "We have to make the most of it, Trix. We need to own it."

"Yes." Loving the sentiment, Trixie went up on her tiptoes, ready to go on the offensive. She met the mouth crashing down for hers. Without a qualm, she willingly let go of their past and the pain it had caused them. It was past time to blaze a new trail for them. She didn't know what they'd find at the end of it. She couldn't predict the outcome. But one thing she knew for sure. She was damn well going to enjoy every last bit of the journey, no matter where it took them. Starting right now.

Bedroom. It ran like a lusty mantra through his mind. It was imperative that they move there, and now, before it became much too late. Breathing hard, hardly daring to stop touching her or kissing her and definitely not willing to let her out of his embrace, Jim clumsily started to steer her out of the room. It would have gone much smoother had he been able to release her or if had he been able to stop kissing her. He couldn't though. His mouth needed to be in contact with some part of her body, whether it was her luscious lips or the exposed skin on the upper part of her chest. They only made three steps into the hallway, stumbling the entire way, before Trixie found herself tripping over someone's feet, most likely his. One high-heeled shoe was lost in the process while she teetered precariously on the other. A pair of muscled arms saved her from crashing into the wall.

Laughing in that sort of secretive laugh only lovers could successfully employ, she pushed back the hair that had fallen into her face and grinned up at him. "Thanks for catching me."

"Anytime," he answered roughly, his face buried against her neck. It seemed to be the most natural thing in the world to press her against the wall she'd nearly crashed into. It was even more natural to follow it up with a kiss. He reluctantly left her mouth to travel down her neck. Lips curved into a male smirk when he heard her moan and felt her hands tug his shirt out of the waistband of his pants. He nearly hissed when she touched his bare stomach for the first time. And then she wasn't wasting any time or asking for permission. In true Trixie fashion, she took matters into her own hands and pulled at the front of the shirt. Hard. Studs went flying in every which way. He didn't care.

She worked hard to free first one arm and then the other. Her pink tongue slipped through her lips, enticing him, while she pushed the shirt off him, leaving him half-undressed. When his upper body was free from all confinement, she moved back against the wall and took one moment to study him. Her heart immediately started its erratic pace again. He was so handsome, so desirable, so…everything to her. Wanting to give back some of the pleasure he'd recently given her, she took charge and began reacquainting herself with his body. She pressed a series of soft, welcome, and very wet open-mouthed kisses along his chest.

His eyes nearly crossed. A long, low groan filtered out. He cracked an eye only to gauge the distance remaining between their current position and the bedroom. Maybe, he mused to himself. There was a chance but only if they moved quickly. Very quickly. Catching her hands, he laced his fingers through hers and tugged her along, needing to get to the bedroom, and now, if they had any hopes of making use of the large, inviting and quite comfortable bed.

Trixie followed along. When they made it to the doorway, she blew the rest of his control simply by standing up on her tiptoes and kissing the skin behind his ear. Groaning, he kissed the bed good-bye. So close and yet…there was no way they were making it now. He framed her face with his hands, engaged her in another set of kisses guaranteed to blow their minds, and began guiding her down, to the carpeted floor.

Surprise was bright in her eyes. "Here?" she squeaked, her chest rising and falling with a rapid rhythm.

"Now," was his answer, fiercely spoken. It had to be now. Her answering moan was swallowed by him as he leaned over. His mouth kept hers busy while he worked hard to release her bra. A few quick awkward attempts and the flimsy article of femininity was gone, revealing two treasures he found extremely rewarding. Quickly, he left her mouth and moved with great haste towards the two tempting points he was more than ready to worship.

And Trixie lost any remaining coherent thoughts. Closing her eyes, ignorant of the carpeting scratching against her back, she let out small moan after small moan. One hand was flung back; the other held his head exactly where she wanted it to be, while the delightful pressure began to whirl and swirl within, building up in a deliciously decadent way.

He was fueled by a need he could no longer contain. His breath hot, his mouth busy, Jim started working his way down the rest of her. He skimmed past her navel, traveled along the thin scar before he ended up at the edge of the fine line of satin. He momentarily skipped over her most private area, brought his questing lips to the tight muscles of her thigh. He tucked a finger under the edge of her hose and, with infinite care and a slick precision that nearly drove her wild, started to pull it down. First one leg; then the other. He tossed each pair of hose off to the side. Carefully, he crawled back up, took her mouth in the most searing of kisses while he felt along the edge of her panties, from slim hip to slim hip, before he slipped a questing finger underneath.

She let out a sharp gasp, one that rang with the darkness of her pleasure and the wonderfulness of the feelings he was stirring within. "Oh my…" she cried out, her eyes turning from their normal bright blue to cobalt. Her hips pushed up, demanding more.

Jim found refuge in the curve of her neck. He used the remaining time to relearn her, what made her gasp, what made her sigh, what made her shudder. His body was screaming for release. Ruthlessly, he clamped down on it. There was something much more important to see to. And he'd be damned if he didn't take care of her first.

When the first wave broke, carrying her along on it with its soft and gentle flow, Trixie let out a low, wanton cry of extreme ecstasy. As it left her, she melted against the carpet, her tanned skin standing out in brilliant contrast against the cream, and looked up at him, the creator of such phenomenal pleasure. She didn't know it. She couldn't see it. But love was shining brightly in her eyes.

The need was riding him hard, too hard. He didn't take the time to look. Breathing hard, Jim worked quickly. He pulled down her skimpy panties, tossed them away, and pushed down his pants. After finding a necessary item, he tore it open and competently sheathed himself, all the while staring at the bounty spread out before him, drinking her in. And just like that, he was inside her, right where he'd longed to be for just about ever. He held himself totally still, ignoring the fact that his body demanded more, much more, and right now. He had to pause, to simply savor the moment, the feel. To savor her. He dropped his forehead to hers and brushed her lips once, twice, with his. "You amaze me," he whispered, his breath tickling her cheek.

"Hmm," was all she as capable of. Her eyelids closed while she opened herself to the sensations. Gold. She felt like she was awash with gold. Pure, smooth, and priceless. The languid feeling rapidly faded away once he started to move. First with long, leisurely thrusts. Swiftly they gave way to more hard, demanding ones. Everything began to build again, only this time with much more urgency, much more strength. Their legs entwined. She held on tightly to the man who was demanding with every single thrust that she let go, and do it now. After feeling like she couldn't attain another plateau of pleasure without splintering, she finally allowed herself to go, with Jim following her in a very close second.

He collapsed. There wasn't any other word for it. Exhausted, but of the excellent kind, he fell on top of her, pushing her deeper into the carpet. He stroked her hair, unaware if he was trying to quiet her or himself, completely willing to enjoy the aftershocks of their combined pleasure together.

"Don't move," she ordered when she felt him start to do just that. Her arms came up, held him there, against her. Sated and delighted, she smiled against his skin. She loved having him with her. She loved having the right to touch him again. She briefly wondered how she'd ever managed to do without him in her life. Somehow, it didn't seem possible. On a low hum, she murmured huskily, "Stay. Stay right here."

"No problem. I think it'll be years before I'm able to move again," he mumbled from his sanctuary by her neck, only half-joking. At the moment, he honestly wasn't certain if he could move again. Not that achieving mobility mattered. Being pillowed by her was unbelievably nice.

"Gleeps, Jim! I know the feeling." Trixie's whole body hummed with the most wondrous of energies. Lazily, she lifted an arm, put it behind her head, completely ignorant of the sexiness of the pose. It wasn't lost on Jim who'd lifted his head. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her. "Doesn't it feel perfectly perfect?"

Chuckling, he gently nipped a bit of skin by her neck and blew on it, causing a new set of shivers to race up and down her spine. His chuckles grew at her answering sigh. Knowing he was too heavy, he flopped over onto his back, bringing her with him. His hands settled at her waist, began kneading the skin there. With a slight tease to his voice, he wondered aloud, "Do you think we'll be able to make it to the bed next time?"

Blue eyes clouded with a touch of whimsy peeped up at him from his chest. "Maybe. Maybe not." She looked over her shoulder, noted with delight how their legs were still tangled up together, and started running her bare foot up and down his leg. Slanting him a saucy glance, she added, "It is an awfully long distance, you know."

He could see the bed out of the corner of his eyes. Seven feet away, tops, if that. An awfully long distance, indeed. With a lazy, lopsided grin, he rested his hands above his head and wrapped a bare leg over hers, lightly imprisoning her to his body. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see how things…progress," he finished on a suggestive note.

Twin eyebrows shot up. Aware of exactly what she was doing, she slowly slithered her way up his body. A part of him he'd erroneously thought was satisfied started to rejuvenate much quicker than he'd expected it to. He couldn't help but attribute it to the sexy slinkiness of the premeditated movement. Interested, he watched her.

She waited until they were face-to-face. With only an inch of air between their mouths, she complimented him with an amused glint, knowing exactly what she was stirring up, "I like the way you think, Frayne."

He gulped. Yeah. He definitely wasn't immune to a gorgeous, naked woman draped over his body. With a hoarse voice he attempted to joke back, "I think I've heard something like that before."

"You did. I'm tossing your words back at you. But you haven't let me finish it yet," she complained through a sunny smile, running soft fingers up and down the side of his stomach.

When her hand went lower than he'd expected it to, his head fell back. "Sorry," he apologized through a knot in his throat, wishing she would be just a little more adventurous than her feather light touches.

Her smile turned sultry. She knew what she was doing. Rather pleased with herself, she whispered again, "I really like the way you think."

Letting out a growl, he fisted a hand in her curls and dragged her head down for a long, rekindling type of a kiss. He broke it off when she finally answered his unvoiced wish. He swore his eyes rolled back into his head. "Damn, Trix. I think the night is going to progress very nicely," he replied hoarsely. Incredibly, need was rising again. He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensations she was now weaving over him.

She looked up once again. Her confidence grew with each labored breath of his. "We've got the whole of it to ourselves," she murmured raggedly, already feeling the welcome twinges of desire started to spiral within again. She moved in closer. Hip to hip, chest to chest, and soul to soul. Throatily, she said against his lips seconds before she took control, her tone filled with unspoken promises she more than wanted to see fulfilled, "All night, Jim. That's what we've got. Let's see what we can do with it."

Neither of them wanted to waste a precious second of the night; not now, not when they'd finally broken through the last of the barriers standing between them. The road that had stretched out behind them, in all its broken, dilapidated starkness, was well on its way to being mended, and gloriously so, with each touch, each whisper, and every soft kiss. And it was truly a long, long time before they finally made use of the bed.


	3. The Broken Road Chapter 42

**The Broken Road  
Chapter Forty-Two **

She barely heard the quiet click of the door as Jim went inside. With a small smile playing across her lips, Trixie lifted her head to the sky. The last pinkish rays of the sun fell over her face as it came ever closer to ending its descent for the lovely summer day. A light breeze carrying the sweet scent of the sea blew by, tugging and teasing at her loose curls. She chose to ignore it, happy to stay exactly where she was, standing in the coming of twilight, with her hands curling around the railing. Her grin deepened, giving life to her dimples. Dinner had been wonderful. Simple but wonderful. Pizza and sweet iced tea, out on the deck, under the shade of the table umbrella, with the most wonderful man keeping her company. And now here she was, enjoying the lovely summer evening, while her soulmate was in the house, answering a text from his father.

 _Soulmate_. The instant the thought popped into her mind, a small gasp escaped her lips. Her eyes immediately popped open; a dark, fixated sapphire. And the dimples winked out. Staring straight ahead, the simple term turned around in her mind, over and over again, in perfect tandem with the rolling waves of the sea, while her busy brain began analyzing it from all different directions. Romantic. Destiny. A union. Not just any union. Life-long and more; one that reached well past the earthly and into the other-worldly. Strong and unbreakable. It couldn't be denied, broken or shattered, no matter how devastating the attempt or the stupidity of either of the participants. Her mouth bowed into a tiny little O while the aura of contentment she'd been experiencing dissipated into the evening air, as easily as the heat of the day had recently drifted away from the smoothness of the silky sand of the beach.

She ignored the pounding of her heart as it steadily increased and tightened her grip on the railing until her knuckles turned white. One thing, and one thing only, was she sure of now. God, they had been so very, very stupid. And so very, very young. Tightly she squeezed her eyes shut, willed her mind to stop thinking; knowing, just knowing that they were not ready to tackle such a complicated topic. But it still had the power to hurt; the memories, the realization, the fact that they had each taken such a precious gift and tossed it aside. Now the only question remained was what she was going to do with her uncovered knowledge.

She didn't know how much time passed as she stared out, unseeingly, at the stunning sunset. A cheerful whistle interrupted her thoughts, pulling her back into reality with a swiftness she wasn't quite prepared for. Grateful for the gentle encroaching of the dark, Trixie spun around on her bare feet to stare at the object of her thoughts, her only hope that all of her thoughts weren't painted plainly across her face. Gulping in a much-needed breath of air, she found the energy to breathe out his name as his footsteps echoed off the stained wood of the deck. "Jim."

Unaware of the affects of her epiphany, and unable to get a good look at her face with the deepening of the shadows, Jim tossed her his famous lopsided grin and sauntered his way across the deck, his thumbs tucked negligently into the loopholes of jeans. In no time at all he joined her at the railing. A few years ago he would have avoided her completely. A few months ago he would have been uncertain of his acceptance. Even a week ago there would have been a slight hesitation to touch her. There wasn't a sign of any of that now as he ran a thumb along her cheekbone and glanced down into her face, one edge of his lip curving up. "All taken care of, Trix."

She watched him more carefully than he realized. She didn't miss a single thing, not the way his thigh accidently bumped hers, not the way one hand of his hung loosely over the railing, or how the other rested gently at the small of her back. And his smile. It widened when he looked at her. There wasn't any way she could miss it. Not when everything she wanted, not when everything that mattered, was only a mere touch away. "All right," she managed to stutter out, wishing that she had the ability to turn her all her thoughts into words of poetry.

After giving her a cheerful little wink, Jim dropped his hand from her and turned to face the ocean. "You were so right, you know. This view is stunning." He paused a moment before giving her a playful shove. "It certainly makes up for the inside of your house."

The little joke was exactly what she needed to combat her heavier thoughts, to put her in a place where she desperately needed to be. Releasing a choked little giggle, she pushed him back and turned around to look at the exact same scene. Dangling her hands, she declared with a cheeky little grin, "Hey. What can I say? The secret's finally out. I've always secretly loved the color pink."

Appreciating her reply, he couldn't help it and roared with laughter. Dropping a comfortable arm over her shoulders, he pulled her closer and tucked her against his chest. After pressing a kiss on the top of her head, he shared the one thought that had been circulating through his mind since he'd boarded the helicopter, "I'm glad I came to San Diego."

"I am, too." She rested her head against his chest and watched as the weakening light of the sun reflected off the gently moving water, grateful for what he was admitting. Her voice went low and husky. "So very, very glad."

Her quietly offered agreement, as well as the tight little hug she paired it with, gave him the largest feeling of happiness that he could remember experiencing in…well, in the longest of times. In fact, he actually couldn't remember when he'd felt so happy, so free, so much like he'd used to feel. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the entire reason was her. It was just the two of them, alone, right as the day gave way to the night. He didn't offer any other words, merely rubbed his chin against the silky smoothness of her curls, and enjoyed the sweetly intoxicating scent of her shampoo.

"What did your father say? How long can you stay?" she murmured, a finger idly playing with a button on his shirt.

Jim lifted a shoulder. "I can take as much time as I want," he replied cheerfully, which almost disguised his guilt over the little white lie he'd offered up to his father. "My dad didn't have any objections to me extending my vacation. I have a lot of vacation time built up."

"Surprise, surprise," she mumbled sarcastically, giving her head a tiny shake.

He nodded in response before taking a deep breath. "He did want to know why." Jim chuckled wryly. Before she could ask the next question, he held up his hand, stopping her flow of questions. "I didn't go into any specifics, Trix. I simply told him the opportunity came up to visit another state and I wanted to take it."

"That answer wouldn't satisfy the Matthew Wheeler I know," she muttered under her breath, staring at him through narrowed eyes.

"And it won't," Jim answered with remarkable good cheer. "But I don't need to worry about it. At least, not for a while." He pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, held it aloft and announced. "After I sent him my last text, I turned my phone off. Then I took the battery out. I don't plan on putting it back in for a while."

Trixie's mouth fell open. "Jim!" she exclaimed, taking the object from him and flipping it over. Sure enough, the battery was missing. She lifted her head back up to his, a look of stunned awe on her face. "My God. That's brilliant."

He gave another simple shrug of his shoulder, pleased with her praise. "It'll only help in the now," he explained, knowing that he'd have a boatload of questions to answer from his father, as well as his sister, and, of course, he couldn't forget his mother, once he returned to New York. But, as it was, he found himself unwilling to care about the upcoming aftermath. No, he was much more focused on the…during. A special spark lit his eyes. There was no way he was going to miss a moment, not a single second, of their time together. The less interruptions, the better.

"I wish I could do that," Trixie declared ruefully, offering the phone back.

"Turn your cell off?" Jim clarified as he placed his now-defunct phone in his pocket.

A curt nod was his answer. "We're not allowed to turn ours off. Ever," she added with a small sigh that said more than words ever could. "In fact, my cell is currently sitting on its charger in my bedroom. I really should have it with me right now."

The information sank in slowly. Knowing Trixie was constantly on call wasn't something he wanted to think about, especially since he would much rather spend their time together, well, together. He leaned in, brushed another light kiss over her forehead. "You just finished up a mission. What are the chances of you being called in anytime soon?"

The question brightened her up. Threading her arms over his neck, she returned his kiss with a quick one of her own. "We're practically guaranteed at least a few days off once a mission is completed. I've never, ever been called into action directly after one. Our Chief firmly believes in letting us have a little…" She paused to let out a throaty giggle before adding, "Break."

Jim stared down into the giggling face before him. Soon his chuckles mixed with hers. They hadn't spoken of it; certainly hadn't shared it, but he knew in that moment that she had every intention of picking up from where their Las Vegas adventure had ended. With a look of pure male delight, he glanced out unseeingly at the exact moment the sun dipped from view, leaving only a few startling beautiful rays left in its wake to prove it had ever been there.

After an endless moment where she simply savored the feel of being held in his arms, Trixie settled herself against the railing again. In a move she'd been doing since childhood, she tugged impatiently at her curls, tucking them behind her ears where they immediately sprang back out to defy her. "Well, since I have a small break from work and you have absolutely no connection to New York…" she added, punctuating her words with an accusatory finger and a wicked grin. "And, since we are both here, in San Diego, with some serious free time on our hands, I might add, we should probably start to plan out the rest of the evening. I could take you around, show you the sights. I know it's your first visit here. So…just tell me, Jim Frayne." She didn't mean the next words to sound seductive. She truly didn't. At least, that's what she told herself. "What would you like to do?"

He already had plans. Just thinking of them deepened the emerald of his eyes, made one edge of his lip curl up in a way that not only would one Daniel Mangan have admired, he would most likely would want to practice and copy. Somehow, Jim doubted if anything touristy she offered up would trump what was on his agenda for the evening. He stated evenly, "Well, we've already had dinner."

Trixie inclined her head to the side, nodded affirmatively. "Yes. That we've had."

He swept his arm out to the ocean. "And a show."

"A magnificent one, too," Trixie agreed immediately, with a glance over her shoulder. "You can't beat Mother Nature, especially when she's in a good mood."

"You're right there," Jim agreed affably, running an absent finger up and down her arm that sent tingles shooting through her.

"So, we've already covered dinner and a show," Trixie recapped, trying to ignore the tiny little goose-bumps his touch was eliciting.

"Hmm," was his answer. He leaned down, whispered near her ear, "Don't forget to add in some scintillating conversation, too."

"Scintillating? I don't know if I'd go that far," Trixie murmured, her eyebrows shooting up when he tickled her side. She giggled again before elbowing him away. "Okay, okay. I give in."

"Dinner. A show. And conversation." He joined her at the railing. Leaning back, he crossed one ankle over the other and began ticking off the simple requirements of a normal date off on his fingers.

Trixie held up her hand, preventing him from saying his next words, while her lips threatened to twitch. "If you say all we're missing is dessert…"

"Well. I was going to." Jim lifted an eyebrow when she started to inch away. He thought about reaching out for her but then figured it would be too easy. Instead, he watched her come to a halt about three feet from him.

Extremely aware of what his idea of dessert was since it was her idea as well, Trixie tried not to giggle. With one hand on her hip, she tsked at him, wagging her finger the entire time. "Come on now. Don't you think that's just a little clichéd, Mr. Frayne?"

"Eh. It's an oldie but a goody for a reason," he agreed with a deep chuckle. "Plus it is all we're missing. Dinner, conversation, a show and dessert. You can't argue with me there. Can you?"

Delighted with the foolishness, pleased to be able to indulge in something as easy and silly as a little joke, Trixie giggled again and took one more step backwards. When she bumped into the table, she reached out to steady herself and laughed even harder, so comfortable with him she wasn't even embarrassed by a return of what she'd always viewed as her unfortunate strain of adolescent clumsiness. "You've got me. I guess that's why you went to law school."

"I guess so." Since she'd unintentionally blocked her own path to the door, he decided it was time to pursue. Watching her closely, he moved forward. "And, you know, there's dessert and then there's…dessert," he whispered, the coming darkness hiding the slight flush staining his cheek. "You really do have some ice cream in your freezer. I know. I checked," he added when she stared at him, her recent laughter coming to an abrupt stop.

"You don't really want ice cream, though. Do you?" Trixie peered up at him through impossibly clear eyes, hoping for a negative response.

He tenderly traced the line of her cheek with the back of his fingers. "No," he replied honestly, hoarsely, staring intently into her eyes. "I don't want ice cream."

"Good. That's good." Breathing in, Trixie closed the miniscule amount of distance between them. "I don't want any, either."

Jim murmured something that sounded suspiciously like "Hallelujah!" before bending down. His lips claimed hers, with a softness and a gentleness that made her sigh all over. It was a lovely meeting, a gentle meeting, one of pure untainted passion, one with just the slight hint of something fierce and hot beginning to brew right below the surface. He brought the kiss to an end, wanting to gain control of the powerful desire she somehow so effortlessly stirred within him. After all they'd been through together, she damn well deserved everything he could give to her. Time was going to stand still. He was going to make sure of it.

A small moan of disappointment was ripped from her throat when he pulled back, something she could not have predicted, something she most definitely did not want. Confusion briefly flared in her eyes until she saw the passion revealed deeply within his, as well as the dark red flush spreading its way across his face. And then she recognized the electricity encircling around them. For once, it was all sparkling clear. "Inside," was her order, spoken in a breathy tone of voice.

Only one spoken word. When she paired it with an insistent tug of his hand, she broke through the thin rein he had remaining on his control. His feet rooted to the spot, halting her from dragging him across the rest of the deck. His movements were slow, deliberate. First he threaded his fingers through her generous bounty of loosely flowing curls. He pulled her to him, inch by inch, until she was flush up against his body. Then he kissed her. It was different from before. This time, it was long, hot and erotic; a kiss meant to dull their senses, to make them deaf, dumb and blind to anything happening around them, to make them forget anything that had ever transpired between them, the good and the bad, and to just focus on the here and the now. Now was all that mattered, all that was important. He moved his body against hers, pushing her against the side of the table. His hands couldn't be contained. They were wild, running over her body in an endless sweep, as if he couldn't get enough of her. And he couldn't. Not her taste, not her feel. Nothing. She was in his blood, in his soul, and so deep in his heart she could never be torn out.

Amazed by the power of his passion, she willingly stayed the recipient. For a long, more than enjoyable moment. Then she twined her hands behind his neck, never taking her mouth from his as her tongue started dueling with him in an endless symphony composed of fiery heat. She moved even closer, pressing herself as close to him as she could so that not even the slightest amount of the warm evening air could reside between them, and simply reveled in the moment. Eventually the need for some air took over. With a sigh of regret, she tore her mouth away from his and murmured in a voice that was much too sultry-sounding to belong to her, "Hmm. Jim? We're still outside."

Dropping his forehead to hers, taking his own time to drink in a large swig of much-needed air, Jim let out a choked laugh. "Give me a moment," he whispered into her ear, breathing hard. "I'll get us there." Because he couldn't stop touching her, he let his hand rest on her hip. Twirling her around, making her giggle some more, he started leading them to the door but his good intentions were undone by the buoyant smile she tossed his way. Halfway there and he was kissing her again. A few steps farther and he nearly tripped over a foot. Hers or his, he didn't know or care. Luckily there was a chair to steady him before they crashed to the floor. When they finally reached the door, amazingly intact and vertical, his hands, normally so competent and in control, fumbled for the doorknob. With one hand wrapped around her and the other desperately attempting to turn the knob and meeting failure each time, he muttered a frustrated curse. It took a few attempts but he somehow managed to flick it open. Even more unbelievably, he had the presence of mind to pull it shut behind them.

"You did it. We're inside," she murmured, her chest rising and falling. She flicked the lock closed, wanting nothing to interrupt them.

He whirled her against the pretty glass of the French doors. With only the vibrant pink remaining from the sunset at her back, she couldn't look any lovelier. His breath came hard. But his words…Oh, God. They came easy. And honestly. "Gorgeous. Breathtaking. So damn beautiful."

She was having just as much trouble reclaiming her own breath. Denying it would be useless, especially when he was looking at her like that, with the most intense glint to his expressive eyes. Instead, she merely met his gaze with one of her own. When he closed the distance between him, her breathing hitched again while her heart rate sky-rocketed. The coolness of the glass at her back registered on some level but it was nothing compared to the sensation she felt the second his hands slid underneath her shirt to caress the soft skin of her lower back.

"Oh, Jim," she whispered, loving the small circular motions his hands were creating. Even though it was still covered from view, she felt him unerringly find the faded scar on her stomach and trace it with careful fingers. Such a simple action, such a small thing to do. So meaningful. A feeling of love for him exploded through her. She laid her head back against the door, unconsciously exposing her neck, and closed her eyes.

Jim couldn't resist the invitation. It was impossible. He was only human, after all. His lips immediately sought refuge, enjoying the taste and texture of her skin. His tongue dipped into the little hollow of her neck. Already nearly insane with desire, which was insane in itself since they had barely even begun, Jim pressed her hips tightly into his, bringing forth a satisfying moan from both of them. With his free hand, he roamed underneath her shirt, light gentle touches, until he found the soft satin covering her breast.

She opened her eyes, enjoying the feel of his hand on the gentle swell, and made a purring sound deep within her throat. She nodded once. With fingers threatening to tremble with unfulfilled desire, she brought her hands up and started, slowly and carefully, to unbutton the small buttons of her white shirt, never once dropping her eyes from his. It was amazingly hard to breathe, with him giving her his complete and undivided attention. Her own nerves made her movements more deliberate, prolonged the actual undressing, and turned it into something more provocative than she intended it to be. But, finally, the last button was undone and her shirt hung open.

Bringing his hands up her side, Jim cupped each shoulder. Looking into her beloved face the entire time, he deliberately slid the shirt down her arms until it landed on the carpet at their feet. Reacting instantly to the sight of her before him in nearly glorious nakedness, he lifted his head and moved to her, eyes blazing now with a desire that threatened to scorch. This time, he bypassed her lips and settled for the sensitive area along the edge of her collarbone. After drawing the skin into his mouth, he bit down gently and tugged. A few licks, a little nuzzle that made her chuckle, and then his wandering mouth went farther down. Her moans came closer and closer to becoming whimpers until his mouth was on the delicate material that effectively covered her breast.

She swore she stopped breathing. She had to. The pleasure was so incredibly intense. Trixie's hand gripped his head, holding him tightly, and pushed herself against his questing mouth. "Gleeps, Jim," she murmured, almost desperately.

He grinned against the bare skin of her stomach, satisfied at her obvious pleasure over his ministrations. Taking a moment, he rubbed his face against her skin, tickling her with the slight stubble on his cheeks. Then he moved onto her other breast, the one that he had neglected thus far. All she could do was hold on tighter than before and forcefully remind herself to breathe while desire quickly formed into a fierce ball of need in her stomach, one that was threatening to consume her. Spurred on by the small cries of need emanating from her throat, he showed no mercy. Not for either of them.

"Bedroom. Now," she finally got out, wondering if they would actually make it in time. They hadn't, not that first time two nights ago in Vegas. Not that either of them had minded all that much, she thought with an inward grin of feline satisfaction. Really, she was coming to learn that nothing mattered, not as long as they were together. Her hand curled against his hip, her fingers clasping onto the loops of his jeans.

He lifted his head, looked down at the halo of blonde curls resting against his chest. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps. To be honest, his was, too. "We'll try," was the best he could promise. He wasn't sure; couldn't be. Not when it took all his self-control not to take what she so obviously wanted to give right then and there.

In complete understanding, she nodded against him. Taking a moment to compose herself, she mumbled, her voice muffled by the material of his shirt, "It's the best we can do."

"Let's see if this will even the odds a bit in our favor." Without warning, he scooped her up in his arms and, mesmerized by another kiss that scorched a path of complete perfection all the way his soul, he found his way through the living room, only bumping into a table once before he walked down the hall and into her bedroom. A slow, sexy smile spread across his face as he carefully put her down, deliberately taking his time so that he could feel her as she slid the whole down his body until her bare toes once again touched the softness of the carpet. He couldn't lose touch of her, kept his hands resting lightly on her hips. "Do you think it worked?"

"Like a charm," was her sweetly offered answer. Trixie slid a seductive glance towards the bed and caught the sight of them in the mirror. So erotic; she caught half-naked. And Jim with his hands toying with the curling ends of her hair. Wanting to even the playing field a little, she played with the edge of his shirt. One quick tug and she slipped it out of the waistband of his pants. A little assistance from him and the shirt, like her own, was a thing of the past, a forgotten article of clothing lying on the floor.

She drew back to study him, taking in everything that was him; from the jeans that rode dangerously low on his hips to the toned stomach to the wide, muscular chest and finally to the handsome face that was watching her with an all-too-knowing gleam in his eyes, one she knew that had to be matched by her own. Her tongue flicked out quickly to wet her bottom lip before she gave in to the overwhelming need to touch him. She spread her fingers out over his chest, appreciating the way the muscles bunched reflexively underneath her touch, her lips curving up.

Damn it. He couldn't stop looking at her mouth. That little movement she'd done with her tongue had nearly driven him wild. Her feather-light touches didn't do much to alleviate his need, either. Oh, God. Groaning, he approached that state again when she leaned in and then surpassed it after she began pressing open-mouthed kisses all over his chest, with no rhyme or reason to it, apparently wherever she felt the need. When she crouched down, nearly going to her knees to lick the sensitive area of skin residing just above the snap on his jeans and maybe, just maybe, a part of him that was demanding attention, he knew he couldn't stand it anymore. It was time. With a loud groan, feeling his arousal intensify until it was approaching that nearly painful stage, he tucked his hands under her shoulders and hauled her back up until he could look at her.

The secret smile on her face she couldn't quite conceal, so femininely satisfied, made him want to chuckle. Or beg. He wasn't sure which. Not that it mattered. Not when he needed all of his energy, all of his concentration, to make sure they were both satisfied. After snapping her shorts open, he slid the worn denim down her legs, until she stood before him in two extremely thin pieces of lace. Like she had done a few minutes before, he drew back to study her. White lace. Magnificent, heavenly white. Standing out against the beautiful bronze tan of her skin. Knowing that the memory of her would be forever etched in his mind, he leaned forward, his intentions clear. One kiss, only one more kiss, full of heat and deep with promise, and then she was being pressed down against the softness of the comforter.

His skillful hands unhooked the front closure of her bra, leaving her with only one more tiny article clothing separating them. Her eyes darkened when he touched the swells on each side with a touch so light yet so devastating, his pleasure evident in the harsh breaths coming from his lips. Plumping one up, he took a nipple into his mouth and plundered. With a little mew of dark delight, she arched her back to allow him better access. And then, hardly daring to wait any longer, one hand slipped lower, trailing down her stomach.

Her loud gasp of pure pleasure was his instant reward. Without missing a beat, he slid one finger into her, finding it undeniably sexy to be able to hold onto her and kiss her breasts as he carefully and deliberately stroked her until she was panting harshly from his passionate attention. His hand were impossibly tender and gentle but held a reverence that staggered her. She whimpered when the desire begin to explode over her. As the wave of need gained force until she thought that she would be swept along, never to be returned, her eyes closed, her legs started to quiver, and a blush formed in her cheeks until it spread all the way across her body. Deliciously pink. With moan after moan filling the air, she unerringly rode the wave out until it was complete. And she was complete, filled with love for him.

As soon as she came back to herself, Trixie let the bed envelop her. Her arms slipped from his back, to lay limp against the sheets. The erratic pounding of her heart filled her ears. She was surprised he couldn't hear it. "Oh. My God," she breathed aloud, her eyelashes closing to become twin dark fans against her skin, and repeated it again. Unable to think coherently, she murmured the question floating through her mind, "Seriously, Jim. How the hell can it keep getting better and better?"

Leaning up on a single elbow, he worked hard to catch his own. Witnessing her completely let go had stunned him. The trust she showed, so easily and completely, was amazing. Beyond amazing. It was something he couldn't wait to experience again. "I don't know," he muttered honestly. And he didn't. "All I know is I don't want it to ever stop." He didn't stop to think of the permanence of his words or what it meant. Instead, he leaned down to gift her with another series of kisses, more than touched by such an admission from her, before leaving the bed to disrobe. He still had on a few too many articles of clothes.

Hell, she didn't want it to stop, either. The words were unconsciously memorized, to be put away and examined at a later date. And cherished. But right now she was more interested in watching his impromptu striptease. Pushing herself up on her elbows, she watched him toe his way out of his shoes, in seeing him undo his own jeans and start to slide them down his hips, and then…The relaxed haze faded away as he rejoined her on the bed, to be replaced by something much more. It was happening. Again. And she couldn't be happier.

The night was filled with the music of combined gasps, moans and raspy breathing. Jim explored her body again, this time with considerably less skill and patience. His once-adept hands now quivered, his own powerful desire demanding that he let go, let go, and do it now. He didn't have much longer before his passion exploded but he wanted this experience to be perfect for her, for them.

It wasn't long before Trixie was writhing underneath him, breathing impatiently, her recently sated desire back in full force, her own hands shaking, her whole body trembling. And her own desire threatening to take over. The time was nearly here. He wouldn't be able to hold off much longer. And neither could she. Since he wasn't moving as fast as she would like, she decided to take matters into her own hands. When her fingers closed over the velvety length of him, setting up a slow and steady rhythm that increased degree by delicious degree, he realized with a hoarse groan that the time was most definitely now.

Breathing audibly, his eyes the darkest emerald they could be, Jim looked into her face as he rolled her onto her back. A pleased laugh was his reward. Her hands landed on the pillows by her head as she studied him expectantly. A simple shot of pleasure turned into a piercing spear after he slowly linked his hands with hers and held on tight mere seconds before he entered her warm and welcoming center with a quick, insistent thrust that felt like the answer to every heartfelt wish she had ever had. And ever would have. Hell, she loved him.

Trixie closed her eyes at the feeling of completeness only he could bring her, in total rapture, until she realized that he hadn't moved, that he was inside her but holding himself completely still. "Jim?" she questioned, her hands gripping his tightly.

"Just...committing you to memory," he replied, his voice thick with unfulfilled passion. He stared down at her, memorizing everything about her. Her beautiful, beautiful face. The desire that was once again reforming. Just… _her_. All her. "I need to. God, I just need to…"

Having none of that, she lifted her head. "Jim," she said again, this time insistently. She gave a roll of her hips, letting him know in no uncertain terms what she wanted, and what she wanted right now.

Damn. He didn't have much control, not where she was concerned. His mouth found hers and he kissed her devouringly. He started thrusting fiercely into her again and again as their bodies glistened with sweat from their ultimate physical excursion, an expression of love in its purest form. Neither had shared the words; not yet, but the meaning couldn't be denied. It couldn't; not any more than their desire for each other could be. It was simply there.

Jim increased the pace as he strove to take her with him on the most pleasurable journey possible. Bodies straining forward, moving in perfect harmony, he could feel his heart thump erratically against his chest in a wildly drumming primitive tattoo. Nearly there, he blindly searched for her lips and bestowed a soft, gentle kiss on her a short second before the storm of passion washed over them, leaving them breathless, shattered, staggered, and amazingly, wonderfully, together and complete. As they reveled in the aftermath, emotions poured over them with the exquisite smoothness of a fine wine.

There were no words to say after such a rich experience. With her hands still caught within Jim's, Trixie gave them a small squeeze. When Jim lifted his head and gently touched his forehead to hers, her heart stopped pounding. And it began to soar. The answer, as she'd discovered out on her deck, was there, right at her fingertips. It was him, all him, and she couldn't have been happier. With eyes alight with undeniable happiness, a soft sigh passed her lips. She breathed his name; this time like it was the sweetest prayer. "Jim."

He smiled against her lips, lips still swollen from his earlier kisses. "Trixie."

"You're going to have to work very hard to top this one," she mumbled, closing her eyes and settling against the comfort of her pillow.

"What…" His eyebrows shot up. Momentarily confused, he realized she was bringing up her earlier comment, how she'd wondered how it kept getting better and better. "Well," he began, a delighted grin slowly working its way across his face, "Give me some time to recover and I'll be glad to see what I can do."

She laughed, a full-out, happy laugh, and tugged him closer to her. "Sleep. First," she murmured, sighing again when his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. Cocooned in his arms, she quickly closed her eyes, feeling safe, secure and sheltered. The best she could ever remember feeling.

"Yeah. Sleep," he repeated, running a hand over the soft curls and listening as her breathing evened out. The quickness with which she fell asleep made him grin. Reaching down, his fingers snagged the edge of a blanket. He pulled it up to cover them. Grateful for the time together, he closed his own eyes and said into the dark, "Why not? We've got all the time in the world."


End file.
